ST. LOUIS — The Boston Red Sox and St. Louis Cardinals first met in the 1946 World Series. Twenty years before that, the Cardinals faced the New York Yankees in a Fall Classic that ended with Babe Ruth getting caught stealing second base for the final out of Game 7.

There are a few amazing things about that, beyond just the World Series ending on Ruth being caught stealing.

For one thing, Ruth was 1-for-1 with a homer and four walks in that game. The Cardinals did OK by pitching around a guy who slugged .900 in the series in order to pitch to Bob Meusel because Miller Huggins had Lou Gehrig bat fifth for some reason.

Busch Stadium in St. Louis is the site from Games 3, 4 and 5.

Gehrig had an OPS 127 points higher than Meusel during the 1926 season, and batted .348 in the World Series to Meusel's .238, so it's not like Huggins was playing the hot hand.

Imagine if the 24-hour news cycle existed then — Huggins would have been roasted.

Anyway, that's not the amazing thing that came to mind Saturday. It was that the 1926 World Series was played with the same schedule as the 2013 World Series — two games in the American League city, a day off, three games in the National League city, a day off and two more games in the American League city.

I had occasion to think about this because my travel for this World Series is a bit of a throwback. I flew to Chicago Friday, stayed there overnight and took a five-hour train ride to St. Louis the morning of Game 3.

This is fine for me, but I'm not a professional baseball player. Imagine playing two games, taking a train from New York to St. Louis, playing in the World Series the next day, playing two more games, and then another train ride and two more games.

There are obviously a lot of differences between rail travel in 2013 and 1926. When I read "The Little Engine That Could" to my daughter, I'm struck by the "parlor cars with soft arm-chairs" line, for instance.

Still, I don't know how old-time players stayed in any kind of shape. Ruth hit four home runs during that 1926 World Series. That's ridiculous in any era, but more so after thinking about the travel.

Or, maybe, I'm just struck by it because I feel my own body breaking down. I'm pretty sure I've got a nice case of plantar fasciitis going, and that bottom-of-the-body injury is matched up top by a toothache that I'm nearly certain is the precursor to a root canal. My foot doesn't hurt when I'm sitting, and my mouth doesn't hurt when I'm eating, so my No. 1 most self-destructive travel habit — eating ridiculously unhealthy things — is all the more appealing right now.

Friday, I got to eat at Lucky's in Chicago and enjoyed a pastrami sandwich with fries on it, which in the past I had mostly known as a Pittsburgh thing. Lucky's is down the block from Wrigley Field, which sits empty in late October once again.

I see Saturday how lively and draped in red the streets of downtown St. Louis are, and I know from having been here to cover hockey that the center of the city is not generally this active. It's one of the sleepiest downtowns I've ever seen.

Wrigleyville is vibrant and busy even on days when there is no baseball. It has a carnival atmosphere on game days for a lousy Cubs team. I can only imagine what it will be like two Octobers from now, if the prophecy of "Back to the Future 2" is to be believed.

Even if it's wrong about the Cubs, I do assume that teams and journalists alike will be able to travel for that World Series using hover technology.

It’s a Saturday in St. Louis, so the Cardinals are wearing what are, no joke, the best alternate uniforms in baseball.